It must have been that large metal ring hanging from his lower lip. It caused a pronunciation problem.

"Corn," he corrected, the lip-ring dangling. "Corn and Indians. And then you've got the whole Pilgrim thing."

Browne was at Water Tower Place. Hordes of shoppers were lunging through the stores to buy presents, perhaps to commemorate some vague historical event.

So who was the object of their thanks?

"Uh, living, you know, being thankful for all the food that they had and just sitting together and eating," Browne said.

"And corn," he said, walking away.

A couple were sitting together on a leather-covered bench.

Excuse me, but when we celebrate Thanksgiving, who or what is the object of our thankfulness?

"The Pilgrims," said Emil Fedak, 64.

"They were thankful for the harvest ..." said his wife, Marilyn, 47.

"... And for coming to the New World and setting up a settlement. All of that," Emil said, finishing her sentence.

"We're from Canada," he explained.

Another victim was spotted, a stylishly dressed man, in his early 30s, walking with a package in his hand.

Stylish Man had long strides of urgent purpose. He was in a big hurry.

Sir? To whom or what do we give thanks on Thanksgiving?

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

To whom or what ...

"I don't have time," he said, dismissing the question with a wave that could have been a moodza.

The stylish man hopped on the down escalator, then on a bus. He disappeared.

Mike Carnes, 50, of Angola, Ind., was doing what most grown men do when they are dragged on shopping trips.

He stood in the middle of the mall, holding the shopping bags, looking lost. The question of whom or what we thank on Thanksgiving was put to him.

"Personally or historically?" he said. "Personally, I'm basically thankful for my family, and for the lifestyle we've been able to lead. But historically, it was based on the Pilgrims and the Indians and for a good life ..."

His voice trailed off and his eyes scanned the mall.

"Yeah," Mike said absently.

He saw his wife coming out of a bookstore and gave a sharp whistle. Mary, 53, saw him and walked up.

The question was put to Mary.

"I guess just tradition and family," she said. "If that can be an object."

Meanwhile, in the warm and smoky confines of the Billy Goat Tavern, three pleasant women from Ohio were polishing off another round of drinks.

It was 10 a.m.

What do you do?

"Oh, we're teachers," said the teachers on vacation.

Jerri is a former cheerleader. The other two were named Terri and I forgot. They were all very nice.

Since they deal with history and corn and so on, the annoying question was put to them. But you shouldn't ask personal questions of teachers who've been drinking.

So I asked them what their students considered to be the object of all the thanks on Thanksgiving Day.

"What?" asked Jerri, uncertain.

Whom do the kids thank on Thanksgiving? And who or what are they taught to thank, anyway?

"Squanto the Indian?" Jerri said.

"The kids thank the Indians, you know," said the one whose name I'd forgotten. "And Pocahontas."

"Yes," said Terri. "They say the Pilgrims were thankful for the Indians."

As Jerri explained about Squanto, she made gestures with her hands. You could see the cheerleader in her, with the hands moving just so.

There was Squanto digging that hole in the dirt, Squanto dropping that seed of corn, Squanto carefully placing that fish on the seed.

Jerri's hands then conjured up a stalk of growing corn.

As she taught amongst the morning bloody marys, I wondered whether the Pilgrims really gave Squanto all the credit for surviving the harsh winter.

They may have been giving thanks to someone with a bit more reach than Squanto the wise.

Historically speaking, when we celebrate Thanksgiving, to whom--or what--is it that we give thanks?